As Cold As Ice
by Amida-Lynn Meixiang
Summary: AU,xover YGO. Eiri Yuki is a prizewinning novelist, distant and sarcastic. One night, out for a drive, he runs into someone who seems to be his match, just as cold and untouchable as he seems. Seto KaibaxEiri Yuki
1. The Predicament So Far

**As Cold As Ice**

**Written By Genjo-Fujimiya-Houshi**

**Disclaimers: Gravitation and Yu-Gi-Oh aren't mine, **obviously. The former belongs to **Maki Murakami **and the latter to **Kazuki Takahashi. **I'm just borrowing them because it's semestral break and I'm bored.

**Author's Note: **Yay! My first multi-chapter story and it just had to be a crossover. I promised myself I wouldn't write one, but I guess promises are hard to keep. It won't be too long anyway because there's only so much you can do with Eiri Yuki and Seto Kaiba in one room. Pairings are obvious non-fluffy Seto/Eiri (in **that **order). The setting is an AU, and I'm also going to say pre-Shuuichi or something like that. This idea just hit me one day and wouldn't leave me alone. Forgive the insanity.

* * *

_**The Predicament So Far...**_

Eiri Yuki could never really tell what gotten into them that night. So, he owed Seto Kaiba for some serious dry cleaning for ruining his coat. But it wasn't his fault. It was raining and he was walking on the street like he owned it. Then again, he probably did. Not that it made him anymore threatening. Though Eiri he had a feeling that he should've felt intimidated at the very least because everyone else is terrified of this man. After all, Seto was a man who had so much power and who could probably own anything with the snap of his fingers. But it didn't make a difference to him. He was stupid for roaming around aimlessly in the middle of the road where a smart man like him should be aware that he could be hit by a car at any given moment.

But it did look like he had a lot on his mind. Just like him.

Two men, two worlds apart. That's who they were. They had two different practices and had different circles of people to associate themselves with. Though this was true, Eiri found that they shared a few things in common. For one thing, they were both successful and not a day goes by that their names don't appear in the periodicals and newspapers. Their moves are watched by the public, him by his fans and Seto by his competitors and investors. That was pretty much expected and they'd come to accept the lifestyle, It was all part of the grind. Both of them knew how the ropes worked. They did their jobs efficiently, as well as they possibly could – and it has never failed. They both hated it when people and other random nuisances got in their way. It would waste their time and they hated it when that happened. They didn't have a lot of it to spare personally, much less to things that were absolutely of no use. They weren't much of people persons either, that was pretty much obvious – though at least Eiri he had managed to maintain a certain kind of playful charm – because apparently, it really _did _help and it was really needed in his line of work. Seto, on the other hand – had a reputation to keep. But he figured that a guy like him didn't have a hard time, keeping that cold, hard and calculating exterior. Something told him, that it wasn't all an act – that it was purely him to the very core of his being. But he could've been wrong; they hadn't known each other for that long after all.

Approximately a night, actually.

Back at his house, for unknown reason – Eiri offered that he could dry up there and they'd discuss payment bills for dry cleaning a bit later. He gave Seto a cup of coffee and half the time, his attention stayed glued to the window view that he had in his living room. Not that he was complaining, it was nice to have a quiet guest that didn't talk him up even if he didn't feel like it. After all, Eiri he was the one who offered for Seto to stay a while wasn't he? That didn't make him uninvited. The funny thing was, they didn't have much of a conversation at first and it seemed to be more of throwing insults and sarcasm at each other more than anything. Both of them knew that after this, they would want nothing to do with each other – that they would never see each other again. It was an encounter headed to the dogs from the very beginning. He couldn't wait to get this over with and watch him walk out of his house and preferably his life.

But something just had to happen first.

They said tension is something that is enough to trigger the smallest things. Sometimes it elevates things into full-fledged fights, sometimes hang-ups and break-ups, sometimes sex – maybe it was an excuse he could use to try and justify what ended up happening between them, half a cup of coffee later. Maybe if that was enough of a reason, he didn't have to kick himself in the head the morning after. There he was, sitting up and leaning on the headboard of his bed – lighting a cigarette, and beside him –Seto lay there with his back turned to him, catching his breath. No, he didn't seem like the 'let's sit down and talk about this' kind of guy. It even seemed like he shook it off rather easily. Was he asleep? He didn't know. Maybe he was pretending to be asleep to avoid any sort of unnecessary conversation.

Eiri scowled, his brows meeting as he watched him momentarily before turning to the window. The bedside that Seto was lying down on now had a strong scent overpowering his own scent, the kind that makes your skin feel cold if it clings onto you. Intoxicating and yet sickening. Eiri didn't bother trying to get rid of him. Seto would do that himself in a few hours; he would get up and get dressed, not bothering to explain himself, pretending that it never happened. Maybe he'd bitch about his coat and demand for the check for the dry cleaning. Then again, knowing that he can afford lousy dry cleaning bills with his kind of status, he'd probably just forget it and go. He didn't have a problem with that sort of thing. He was going to do the same in the morning.

Successful assholes or not, they were still people – people have needs. It was a cold night, perhaps they were just lonely and even if that were the reason, it wasn't like they'd ever admit it anyway.


	2. Just A Few Days Ago

**As Cold As Ice**

**Written By Genjo-Fujimiya-Houshi**

**Disclaimer: Gravitation and Yu-Gi-Oh are not mine. **But I do know that Eiri and Seto would kill me if they ever saw this thing.

**Author's Note: **This is a flashback scene. What happened before they... erm... got too well-aquainted. I tried to be witty, but I failed. I'm sorry. But I try to keep both of them as they are. Any comments and suggestions will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored, Constructive Criticism be welcome.

* * *

_**And Just A Few Days Ago**_

Eiri couldn't wait to get away from his editor. Unfortunately, though he had a couple of them (and most of them, if not all, were female) today, he was unlucky enough to be stuck with the one who couldn't keep quiet for even at least five minutes. He tried making it look as if he had another appointment, giving her the usual generic, distant treatment – but it had somehow encouraged even more flirting from her and had given her the impression that all that really meant was _come hither. _It made him roll his eyes the more he thought about it. At the end, he just had to get up and point out that he was running late for something. He was now left wondering if she'd gotten the hint.

It's not that they weren't attractive – he was the first one to admit that for some odd reason (or maybe not so odd considering he was a man who was aware of what he was blessed with) he got the attractive female editors, who raced against whatever and whoever to handle the editing of his next book, it was mostly because that meant the occasional meetings with him to check how the books were going. Though the truth was, they didn't walk away empty handed all the time as he was known to have dated a few of them in the past. He wasn't a complete hopeless case when it came to women. He had his reputation of being quite the ladies man – not that the news ever got out most of the time as his female fans liked to dream that he was saving himself for one of them. That isn't actually true and he thought it was incredibly stupid – but his publishers often said to leave their delusions alone, as it was good for the sales.

He was ready to go home for tonight.

The thought of it all made his head hurt sometimes. He didn't like humoring people when they were being idiots, but sometimes – it was called for. It was all part of the job, that's why he liked it best when he'd close up from the rest of the world. When he'd go home, light a cigarette, drink his beer – he felt relaxed. He felt like himself. It's not like he disliked having to keep up with being this charming gentleman that he lets the fans see him as, but it's not like he was too crazy over the idea either. He saw it as work. Something he had to do to get his job done right. After that, he wouldn't have to do it again – at least until the next release of his new book and the next interview scheduled for him. He wasn't all too that sociable and he liked his personal space. Dealing with people was his least favorite part (especially nosy reporters who stick their nose in business that shouldn't be theirs) but inevitable.

He headed to where his car was parked, right where he left it – pulling the car door open, he got into the driver's seat. As he closed the door, he immediately put on his seatbelt and started the engine. He'd have a whole week to himself or two at least, before he'd start writing again. Then again, it took a long while before the sales of his book died down and even at that they don't _actually _stop selling. But being a writer sometimes meant having ideas stored at the back of your head just in case the need of a publication came up. He might as well come ready.

It was going to rain. The skies were a mix of dark blue and gray and he swore that he heard thunder roaring softly. It was going to be cold; a hot cup of coffee would be perfect for this kind of weather. He was starting to mellow out at least – which was a good thing. The last few days of no sleep and writer's block was not good for him. It never has been in the past. He sighed and scowled slightly to himself, driving a bit faster. The headache was coming back and he suddenly felt the need to lie down. It was a funny thing that stress would sink into his system after everything was done.

Eiri didn't see clearly that as he drove even faster on the road that there was a tall figure crossing the street. It was only a bit too late he realized that he was going to run over someone. The funny thing was, the stranger did not look or seem the least bit horrified. He stood there in the middle of the road, as if he had realized himself that there was a car headed his way and didn't know until that very moment. But he didn't move from his spot, he didn't even attempt to stop the car. He just stood there, waiting for **_him _**to stop.

Eiri swerved the car to the left. Avoiding him perfectly.

Thank goodness he was an excellent driver.

He frowned and removed his seatbelt, he was definitely annoyed now. This is the last thing he wanted and it seemed to have made the headache worse. He was going to get out of this car and he was going to _give _this guy a piece of his mind.

_**And then some. **_

"Oi." He called dryly, looking over to his direction. "What the **hell **do you think you're doing?"

The headlights to his car were blinking because of the sudden halt (it was an emergency measure installed in). Eiri could see the stranger a bit clearly now, though it was a bit hard to distinguish because blinking lights weren't exactly that helpful. But he did see that he was about just as tall as he was. His hair must've been a bit dark and he looked a bit pale.

There was one thing about him that he couldn't miss.

His eyes.

They were a shade of blue. A very noticeable shade of blue. The funny thing was, he couldn't tell just what kind of blue exactly. Was it azure? Cobalt? Sky blue? Ice blue? Not from this view at least. But they had this piercing, cold glare that was enough to make anyone freeze, catching anyone's attention from a two mile radius. Hell, he was amazed that it caught **_his _**attention.

It also got him staring inappropriately for more that two minutes. He was bewildered by it all, he shook his head.

"I _said _what the **hell **do you think you're doing?" he emphasized.

The stranger answered in a low and slightly gruff tone.

"Walking. What does it look like?"

Well, he sure had a sense of humor, didn't he? Eiri scowled and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. **_I know._**" He snapped back. "I mean, why the hell are you walking so slow on a road where a car can pass by and bowl you right over at any given minute." He paused. "Not that I care if you **do **get bowled over – but people **_need _**to use this road, too."

The stranger looked down, he looked displeased – frowning even more, his brows meeting. Eiri watched carefully, though he had half the mind to just leave the "idiot" alone.

"You ruined my coat." He muttered lowly, but enough for him to hear. He looked back at the blond. "It's soaked."

Eiri felt great annoyance escalating. But he became distracted at the thought that he has seen this man before. No, he didn't think that it was someone that he's bumped into before in one of those press releases. Perhaps they were in the same building once? He most certainly didn't seem like a reporter or a publisher that he was introduced to before. But come to think about it, that face – he has seen it before.

The closest he could think of was them being in the same building. That was some weeks ago maybe, months – the latest one he had before he had to write his new book. He'd gotten in the elevator on the third floor – but he'd forgotten about it, hadn't he? Maybe it wasn't that – but he knows that this face is familiar. The dark brown hair, the tall stature, the stern frown and the blue eyes (that could burn through buildings if he glared at them long enough). It was a bit blurry before, but it was coming back to him.

Eiri looked at him again. That coat, he wore it before – last time he saw it, the same person – wearing that coat, on the eleven o'clock news – about his multi-trillion yen gaming company.

There was no mistaking it. He was in the newspapers all the time, too.

His name? He heard it so many times, how could he not remember?

**_Kaiba Seto. CEO and Owner of Kaiba Corporation. _**The reporter's voice rang in his head.

"What are you staring at?" he asked from across him.

Eiri shook his head and sighed.

"You almost dented the bumper of my car, idiot."

"I'd get my checkbook but it's in my pocket and it's probably wet, no thanks to you." Seto retorted shortly.

The blond shook his head and sighed tiredly. "Get in the car."

The brunet looked surprised as he raised an eyebrow and frowned.

"Do you want your coat dry or what?"

* * *

To Be Continued 


End file.
